


Circle Masters

by TawnyOwl95



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Halloween, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Scarecrows?!, Spooky, Trickety Boo 2020, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26756515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TawnyOwl95/pseuds/TawnyOwl95
Summary: It starts as it will end. In a garden. Tadfield Allotment Gardens.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Sergeant Shadwell/Madame Tracy (Good Omens)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 56
Collections: Trick-Or-Treat!





	Circle Masters

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the Owlet who will go to his granny’s allotment to steal raspberries and visit with the two scary scarecrows.  
> Owlet: It's ok they're just sticks and clothes,  
> Me: Hmm, are they? 
> 
> Thank you to CumaeanSibyl for the initial feedback.  
> And to [Euterpein](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euterpein/pseuds/Euterpein) for organising Trickety Boo.

It starts as it will end. In a garden. The Tadfield Allotment Gardens, that sit right on the edge of the village between the cemetery and Hogback Woods. There's a crooked old apple tree at the centre, it's branches twisting far enough and wide enough to cast a reflection over the deep, cool pond on the edge of Mr. Tyler's plot. 

Mr. Tyler is the small community's king. A small community of no more than ten plots worked by no more than eighteen individuals. And two scarecrows. 

The first scarecrow sits on a deckchair in the witches' plot. He's positioned by the greenhouse with his right leg half hidden in the rosemary bush. A smiling, squishy old chap with robins nesting beneath his straw boater and bugs in his boots. Whenever the witches stop for tea they pour him a mug first, and place a chocolate digestive on his knee. They chatter away at him, asking his opinions on the belladonna. They call him Mister. 

The second scarecrow stands a half hearted guard over Shadwell's marrows. A skinny, crucified thing in black, sunglasses adding a rakish, devilish air. He does not receive the same libations as his cream clad counterpart, but he is placed just in the right position to gaze across the grassed walkway to look into the witches' allotment. Sometimes Shadwell's assistant, Newt, and less obviously, Shadwell himself, will come and stare with him. They will share sighs, and hopes and heart secrets. The scarecrow sympathises, even when Shadwell asks, "And wha' da ye ken of love, yer flash bastard?" 

Shadwell's marrows always win first prize at the village fete. And the witches' herbs are so verdant and lush that the village maidens swear all you have to do is scent the lavender on the summer air to find true love.

One day in Spring, a lady from the council visits in her not too sensible shoes and takes pictures. She is sheepish as she explains that the council is being told to build houses and the allotments could be moved further out of the village to make way for about twenty dwellings, some affordable. (As if anyone knows what  _ that  _ means.) 

Fortunately she was a local girl before she moved away. At the public meeting in the village hall, Tracy pours her tea and clucks her tongue. Shadwell frowns and scowls. Between them they explain why moving the allotments is not a sensible idea. The lady from the council grips her tea cup and nods silently. The site is dropped from the council's plan that very week. 

At Beltane, Newt and the younger witch, Anathema, are sneaking back from the allotments in the gloaming. Anathema brushes grass from her skirts, and Newt pulls twigs from his hair. They giggle as their fingers touch, entwining until they're palm to palm. They pause on the slope that leads up to the cemetery and look back. 

It could be the shifting purple shadows, but it looks like there's movement down in the allotment. Two figures dancing lazy, twirling circles. The figure in beige holding the dark one's spread arms as they spin through the gardens. It's an awkward, untidy dance. They bash into the runner beans, and get feet stuck in watering cans. Laughter drifts up to the lovers on the breeze. It's joyous, but eerie and eldritch. Newt and Anathema hold hands tighter. They tell no one. 

The next day, Newt and Anathema look closely at the allotments but the runner beans aren't wonky and all the watering cans are the right way up. Mister's leg is still encased in rosemary. Still, they watch both scarecrows closely. They don't notice the scarecrows watching them back. 

At Midsummer, Adam Young is scrumping from the ancient apple tree. The weave of the branches makes easy climbing, he's done this before and is complacent. His foot slips and he falls into the pond beneath the tree. Winded and afraid he struggles against the weeds closing round his legs. The scummy water fills his mouth and nose. 

He will swear for the rest of the summer that he was pulled out by hands with fingers sharp like sticks. Was bent over almost double and hit on the back by hands too soft and strong to be real. And that all the time he fought to stay conscious two voices bickered to each other, back and forth, in a language almost understandable, but made of so many unusual words that the meaning couldn't quite be grasped. 

Around the time of the equinox a gang move into Tadfield. They ride in on motorbikes. One red, one black, one white one pale. They knock down street signs and start fights. Bins are overturned and grease stains left in the roads. They use bolt cutters to break the chain and padlock on the allotment gates. Tools are stolen. Tyre tracks are left in the grass. They knock of Mister's hat and steal Flash Bastard's sunglasses. 

The villagers ask them nicely not to do this. When they are laughed at the villagers give additional warnings. These are laughed at harder. 

The villagers do not bother to replace the lock on the allotment gate. It will only get broken again and it's clear that  _ some people _ just won't be told. 

On Samhain, the shadows are long and hungry when the gang breaks into the allotments for the last time. After that night they are never seen again. Must have left town, the villagers reason. Nothing in dull sleepy Tadfield for the likes of them. A shame they left their bikes behind. These are hastily turned to scrap and not mentioned when police from outside the village come asking questions. 

Flash Bastard has his sunglasses back the next morning. And a rather fetching red leather jacket. It's the colour of blood. Mister has his hands folder over his stuffed stomach. He looks satisfied. 

As the year filters away in cold sunlight and hard ground, if the witches unearth a splinter of bone as they work it doesn't get commented on. They throw it on the compost and keep digging. If Shadwell fishes a studded boot out of the deep pond beneath the apple tree, he'll hum with minimal regret and toss it back. 

The scarecrows continue to guard their garden. And anything that grows there, both plants and people, thrive. 


End file.
